


Let My Doubts Go

by alba17



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: First Kiss, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-18
Updated: 2012-03-18
Packaged: 2017-11-02 03:02:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/364274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alba17/pseuds/alba17
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Arthur injures Gwaine in practice, Merlin takes care of Gwaine and discovers he has feelings for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let My Doubts Go

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a prompt at the gwaine_quest Leap Day Fest.

That day, Merlin woke with an ominous, heavy feeling that he never managed to shrug off. Not when the cook graced him with a bloody amazing breakfast in return for a juicy story about what happened on the night watch; not when Gaius gleefully relayed the results of his most recent experiment with worms and some kind of bitter root, the smell of which was almost enough to make Merlin’s amazing breakfast come back up.

When they brought Gwaine in from the practice field on a stretcher, the feeling settled deep in Merlin’s gut. He’d had been suffering through George's latest lesson in the armoury, slowly succumbing to an onslaught of yawns, when he glanced through the open door and saw a small party trudging up to the castle with a stretcher. He bolted from the armoury, heart in his throat.

Blood seeped through the makeshift bandage wrapped around a wound in Gwaine's thigh - the same one he'd injured in the bar fight where he and Merlin had first met. His eyes were glazed with pain and he clutched at his leg. Percival and Elyan shared a concerned look with Merlin as they carried the stretcher, a glowering Arthur following close behind.

_Gwaine._ Merlin's breath caught at the pallor of his face. "Get him up to Gaius quick as you can," Merlin said, trying to quell his panic and assume a professional demeanour. Percival and Elyan nodded and kept moving.

Merlin fixed Arthur with a glare. Arthur at least had the grace to look abashed before barrelling into his explanation. "Look, he wasn't fast enough, all right? Down at the tavern all night again, were you? A knight of Camelot has to be at his best every day, not just when he's in the mood."

But goddamn it, it was _Gwaine_. Merlin felt unaccountably angry with Arthur, flushed and flustered. "What’s got your knickers in a twist today, eh? I'm holding you responsible if this is anything more than a surface wound," he said, pointing his index finger at Arthur. "You can't just go poking your pointy little sticks in your own knights on a whim. You've got to be more careful. I mean...it's Gwaine," he said as if that were explanation enough. He looked up after the party carrying Gwaine up to the castle. They were almost there. "God, Arthur. Just...go bonk some more heads together or whatever it is you do with the knights and try not to hurt anyone else, if you can manage it." He let out a gust of breath before turning to catch up.

"Merlin!" Arthur called. "Send him back as soon as you have him patched up."

Merlin mumbled a few choice swear words under his breath as he hurried up the hill.

*

"I've done what I can for now, Merlin," Gaius said, regarding Gwaine's face as he lay on the cot in Gaius' workshop. Gwaine seemed to be drifting off finally, eyes barely open. A pile of bloodied cloths lay on the sidetable; next to them, Gaius put down the cup from which he'd had Gwaine sip. "I've given him a draught to help him rest and stave off the pain. Along with the poultice, that should give him a good start toward healing." Gaius unbent creakily from the stool and put a hand on Merlin's shoulder, pinning him with a beady eye. "But we've got to keep a close eye on him for the next twenty-four hours. If infection sets in, he could be in trouble. I want you to stay by him through the night."

"Yes, Gaius." It would take the strength of ten Percivals to pry him away. He'd always had a soft spot for Gwaine.

"And be sure to let me know if there are any signs of a problem. I know I can trust you, Merlin, yes?"

Merlin nodded. "Definitely." His gaze fell on Gwaine. It was everything he feared since Gwaine decided to stay at Camelot; the knights always were in danger. But he'd thought they were relatively safe on their own practice field. Arthur liked to drive them hard, but this was ridiculous. Anger flared hotly through him again.

“You said Arthur expected him back on the field?” Gaius asked. Merlin nodded and Gaius shook his head. “Well, that’s not going to happen. I’ll alert the King that Gwaine must stay here for the night to recover. He’s in no state to go anywhere.”

“And don’t forget to tell Arthur he’s a clotpole.”

“Are you _sure_ you want me to tell him that, Merlin?” Gaius smirked.

*

In the middle of the night, Gwaine's moans roused Merlin from his dozing. He hurried to his side, in his haste almost tripping over the stool he'd been sitting on nearby. "Gwaine." He put a hand to his forehead. Warm, but not hot - that was a good sign. "How do you feel?"

Gwaine wrinkled his brow in confusion, the dark night casting haggard shadows on his face.

"You're in Gaius' chambers. You were injured on the practice field. By Arthur?" Merlin said, suppressing the impulse to grind his teeth.

Gwaine closed his eyes and made a little murmur of understanding, as if it was all coming back. He lifted his head to look down at his leg, then let it fall back on the pillow with a thump. "My leg."

"Yeah, you hurt your leg. We've put a poultice on it - Gaius' special healing concoction. You were bleeding a lot. But you'll be better soon."

"It hurts." He groaned. "Why does it hurt so much?"

Merlin winced in sympathy. He hated to see Gwaine suffer. He didn't know why, but he took it much more to heart more than when the other knights were injured. He didn't worry nearly as much when Elyan was possessed by the water spirit. "It's the same leg you hurt before. Maybe that's why." He tried not to think about the other possibility - that an infection had set in. Gwaine dying because of this, of all things, from Arthur injuring him needlessly in practice - it made him feel like clawing his scalp off. He could kill Arthur. "Don't worry about it, Gwaine. You're in good hands. Gaius knows what he's doing. And I'll be here, all night." He smoothed a hand over Gwaine's hair, wet with sweat at the roots. He wet a cloth and placed it gently over his forehead. "Does this feel good?"

Gwaine nodded, then his head fell to the side, eyes drifting shut again. "Thank you, Merlin," he said, barely audible.

"Just rest now," Merlin said. Before long, Gwaine's breath grew regular and steady, leaving Merlin alone with his worry. It promised to be a long night. In the morning he could get a clear look at the wound and see if it was healing. For now, all he could do was wait. If Gwaine died... he didn't want to contemplate the possibility. He loved all the knights. They'd been through hell and back together and they were all good, honorable fellows. But somehow Gwaine was different. He always had been, since that first moment they'd shaken hands over a bar counter in the middle of a brawl.

Now Gwaine's hand was curled into a fist at his side and Merlin teased open the fingers to slip his hand in Gwaine's palm, clammy but reassuring. Maybe the touch would help somehow. Although the truth was he'd often wanted to grab Gwaine's hand, in moments of affection or when Gwaine looked at him in a way that made his chest tight. Those looks they shared - they made all kinds of confusing feelings bubble up inside Merlin, feelings he was normally too busy with Arthur’s demands to contemplate.

This was all Arthur's fault. If he didn't work the knights so hard, this wouldn't have happened. Sometimes it seemed like he had it out for Gwaine. He had no reason. Gwaine had proved his fealty many times over. He was one of them now. Arthur trusted him enough to knight him. But there was always an element of wariness between him and Gwaine. Arthur loved to mock him and it wasn’t always in a joking, kindly manner. Perhaps he feared that Gwaine's distrust of royalty would cause him to run off eventually. But Arthur's treatment of him had been bothering Merlin more and more lately. It didn’t seem justified, given all Gwaine had done for Camelot. He wasn’t some clueless, undeserving dolt. He was a fine warrior. Sure, he had a taste for ale and enjoyed a good time, but who didn’t? Arthur was too hard on him.

He watched Gwaine sleep, the slow rise and fall of his chest, the familiar necklace coiled on his bare skin. The mysterious medallion caught the low light coming from the window. Merlin stared at it, wondering what it meant, what the significance was for Gwaine. Whatever it was, it must be important. He never removed it. Merlin hoped that one day Gwaine would trust him enough to tell him.

As the hours crept by, punctuated by periods of napping and then waking with a rush of worry over Gwaine, Merlin resolved to confront Arthur about his treatment of Gwaine. Despite his panic, Gwaine slept steadily, if fitfully. 

Towards dawn, he grew more restive, the moans coming more frequently. Finally, his eyes cracked open. Instantly, Merlin hovered over him, surveying his state. His eyes were cloudy - clearly, he was still in a lot of pain. It was still dark outside, albeit lightening at the horizon. Too early to get a good look at the wound. Perhaps it was time for more of Gaius’ draught.

Merlin poured some into the cup. The pungent aroma cleared his nostrils. “Here.” He held the cup out to Gwaine. “Drink this. It will help with the pain.” When Gwaine didn’t respond, Merlin decided to take things in hand. He pulled Gwaine up by the shoulders, holding him in the crook of his long arm. “You need to drink this, my friend. Come on, drink up. It tastes better than it smells.” That wasn’t true, strictly speaking, but it sounded encouraging.

Gwaine mumbled incoherently, something that sounded suspiciously like what you’d hear down at the tavern when someone didn’t pay for their drinks, but he let Merlin lift the cup to his lips and sipped at it, leaning into Merlin’s embrace. Despite the blood and sweat, Gwaine’s scent brought forth a sharp-edged wanting in Merlin. He turned his head slightly so his nose brushed Gwaine’s hair, the aroma filling his nostrils. Suddenly he was aware of the press of Gwaine’s hip against his own, the hardness of the muscled shoulder under his hand. He felt a little dizzy.

“Finished?” he asked, anxious to put some distance between him and Gwaine.

Gwaine nodded, handed Merlin the cup, then looked up at him, curled close in Merlin’s arm. “You’re a good friend, Merlin.”

Merlin gaped as he was caught speechless by a rush of affection. Gwaine’s words seemed to loosen something inside him, something that he’d held tight for too long. “You too,” he managed to say once he found his voice. He wanted desperately to put some space between them, thrown off balance by the fraught moment, but he couldn’t seem to let go.

“Thank you for staying with me tonight,” Gwaine continued. His eyes were soft and brown, more alert than they’d been a moment ago. Maybe the draught was helping. Merlin was struck anew by how attractive he was, even battered, bruised and filthy. How had he never noticed? Perhaps he hadn’t allowed himself to - too confusing.

“That was very kind of you. Not everyone would do that.” Gwaine laid a hand on Merlin’s thigh. It seemed unnaturally warm. And when had his face gotten so close to Merlin’s?

Again the words stuck in Merlin’s throat. “That’s all right. It’s my job.” He didn’t want to admit that he wouldn’t have done it as readily for just anyone.

Gwaine looked at him sidelong. “Sure, okay. But I’m glad you did. I’ve spent many a night alone and ill or injured, on the road, and let me tell you, it’s much better to have company when you’re in that state.” He cupped Merlin’s jaw, just for a moment, and let his fingers linger under his chin before letting go. Merlin swallowed, his mouth dry.

Gwaine sagged into Merlin’s arm as if the conversation had sapped his energy. Merin slid his arm away, letting Gwaine settle back down onto the bed. The night air was chill around him in contrast to the warmth of Gwaine’s body. “You’d better get back to sleep. Gaius will have my arse if he thinks I kept you awake and unrested.” He tucked the blanket around Gwaine’s shoulders, letting a hand rest on Gwaine’s chest, unwilling to let go the touch.

Gwaine allowed Merlin a small smile before his eyelids drooped closed. Merlin took the opportunity to examine his wound. The blood had dried on the bandage and there was no sign of fresh leakage. So far, so good. That was a relief. He’d unwrap the bandage when Gwaine awakened in the morning and then he’d have a better idea of how he was doing.

He sat back down on the stool, his mind awash with agitated thoughts about Gwaine. All this time, he’d thought of Gwaine as just a friend, nothing more. He’d never allowed himself to think of other men in that way, even though he could feel a tumult of complicated emotions below the surface, like a ship entrapped in a glass bottle, afloat on an imagined sea. Granted, his feelings about Gwaine were somewhat more _tender_ than those he had for other men, even Arthur, to whom he was devoted. He'd never been able to acknowledge the full import of his feelings. Now though...somehow, with Gwaine injured, at the hands of Arthur no less...and after Gwaine expressed such unusual gentleness with him...he was hard pressed to ignore what his heart was telling him.

*

The morning burst with a glow over Gaius’ workshop, casting a clear yellow light on Gwaine’s face, still peaceful in sleep. Merlin’s back was sore from sleeping slumped on the stool and his dreams had been odd and unsettling. He’d dreamed of Gwaine wrapped in white cloths and lying at the bottom of a pit, Arthur yelling. It took him a moment to realise it was a dream, to adjust to wakefulness. Gwaine was there, close by, alive, if injured. Definitely not at the bottom of a pit.

Merlin had barely stirred when Arthur came bustling in, the face of concern now that Gwaine had spent the night convalescing. “How is he?”

“No thanks to you, he’s doing all right. I’ll know more when I undo the bandage,” Merlin said.

“Good.” Arthur paced a few yards, frowning. “I didn’t mean to hurt him, you know.”

“All right. Good. Why are you telling me?” Merlin realised that sounded odd. “I mean, um...” Befuddled, he lost track of his words. Gwaine did feel special to him but he didn’t exactly want Arthur to know that. Damn it, he was still mad, and it all came rushing back. “Yeah. What the hell were you doing out there? There’s no reason to go around slashing at your own knights, Arthur.”

“And are you now an expert? What was the last joust you won? I’m not going to apologise for training my knights hard, Merlin.”

They glared at each other until Arthur said, “I worried all night about him.”

“Okay.” A fresh wave of outrage made Merlin's throat tight. “It’s not right though, Arthur. This shouldn’t happen. Gwaine’s really hurt. I know you want them to be tough and all, but Gwaine’s already been through a lot. He doesn’t need extra help from you. Hasn’t he proved his worth?”

Arthur’s mouth was a tight line. He looked at Gwaine, who was rolling around, about to wake up. “I joke about him, but he’s a fine knight. One of the best.” He looked down at his feet, probably the most apology anyone would get out of him. “Take good care of him, Merlin.” He met Merlin’s gaze, eyes a clear commanding blue.

“I will.” Merlin would make damn sure of it.

“He can come back to practice when Gaius says he’s healed.”

Merlin nodded, a grin sneaking across his features. Arthur nodded back. It seemed they’d come to an understanding.

*

Merlin was lost in one of Gaius’ herbals - who knew thyme was an aphrodisiac - when Gwaine woke.

“God, I’m thirsty,” he said, looking around curiously as if he still didn’t know where he was.

Merlin quickly got him a cup of water from a pitcher on the big table. He held it out, unsure of how to act. Gwaine pierced him with a surprisingly alert gaze, brushing Merlin’s fingers when he took the cup to drink thirstily. His eyes remained on Merlin’s as he drank, with a suggestion of his usual cheekiness.

Merlin gulped. He took in too much air and hiccuped, feeling like an idiot.

Ignoring his nervousness, he switched to caretaker mode. “Let’s take a look at your leg, shall we?” Gwaine shifted his leg, which was quite naked, thank you very much, so Merlin could have better access. He ignored the smirk on Gwaine’s face. Clearly the man was feeling better.

He carefully peeled off the bandage, not without some wincing on Gwaine’s part and threw it away. No matter how it was doing, he’d need fresh bandages. There was still some bleeding, but no sign of infection. He dabbed it with some healing salve, sadly unable to prevent himself from darting curious looks at the rest of Gwaine’s body. He was covered from the waist to the knees in undergarments, but part of his thigh was visible, faint tracings of brown hair over smooth skin. Merlin had to push the garment up to get at the wound more easily, displaying Gwaine’s upper thigh. The skin was vulnerable and pale, the inner thigh inviting a soft touch. Merlin restrained himself, but just barely. He reminded himself he was Gwaine’s healer, first and foremost.

“How’s it look?” Gwaine asked.

“Not bad.” Merlin dabbed some more, taking a good look at the edges of the wound. “Pretty good, actually. You’re lucky.”

“Still hurts.”

“I know. It will for awhile. We need to keep it clean. There’s always the danger of infection.”

“Yeah.” Gwaine looked like he was familiar with the problem. “My mum drilled that into us. Had her favourite remedies.”

“You never told me about your family,” Merlin said, glancing up at Gwaine as he continued working.

“No. Haven’t seen them in a long time.” Gwaine fingered his necklace.

“Mmmm,” Merlin responded noncommittally. “Miss my mum.”

Gwaine looked out the window and didn’t say anything.

Merlin set aside the cloth and took up some bandage material. He contemplated Gwaine’s thigh for a moment before nudging it up to wrap the material around it. No, he absolutely did not wonder what the tender skin of the inner thigh would taste like. When he had it wrapped tightly, he smoothed the cloth down a few times more than necessary just because he was enjoying touching Gwaine. He wasn’t afraid to admit it at this point.

“There,” Merlin said when he was done. Gwaine had been distant during the procedure, caught up in his own thoughts. “Is it any less painful now?”

Gwaine brought his gaze slowly back to Merlin. “A little bit. The draught helps.”

“Good.”

There didn’t seem to be anything else to say, but Merlin couldn’t tear his eyes away from Gwaine’s. A flush swept up his neck.

“There’s something else you can do for me,” Gwaine said, his eyelids lowering slightly. “It would make me feel much better.”

At Gwaine’s tone, the flush spread to Merlin’s cheeks. “Yeah?” he said roughly.

“Come here.” Gwaine opened his left arm, his uninjured side, and scooted over a little on the cot.

“Um. What?” Merlin’s heart banged rapidly.

“Come here,” Gwaine repeated. “Lay next to me. I’m cold.”

“Oh.” That was all. “Sure.” He came around to the other side of the cot and settled in next to Gwaine as best he could. The cot wasn’t made for two full grown men. Merlin had to lie on his side.

“You’ll fall off like that. Move closer. It’s okay,” Gwaine said. He put his arm around Merlin’s shoulder and pulled him in. There was that smell. Merlin inhaled deeply and rested his head on the pillow, nose almost touching Gwaine’s neck. “Come on, you can do better than that. Put your leg over mine, it’ll make more room.”

Merlin swallowed. He was already getting hard. He didn’t want it to be obvious. But Gwaine felt so good, he couldn’t help it. Gwaine turned to him so their faces were so close that Merlin had trouble focusing on Gwaine. Gwaine looked in his eyes and reached over to pull Merlin’s leg over his. Merlin was careful not to brush against the injury. Surely Gwaine could tell the state Merlin was in since Merlin’s cock was now flush up against his hip. Merlin felt hot with shame. And yet Gwaine was looking at him in that way he had, intensely focusing on him, and then he was bringing his hand up to Merlin’s face and sweeping it into his hair, his eyes darting over Merlin’s features until they fixed on his mouth. Merlin couldn’t move, couldn’t think, as Gwaine drew even closer, his breath warm on Merlin’s face, until their lips met.

Merlin closed his eyes against the rush of feeling, the dizzying brush of Gwaine’s lips against his, the heady realisation that Gwaine wanted him too. They kissed for several moments, chaste at first, lips dry and closed, then opening to a brief suggestion of tongue and wetness, until Merlin pulled back, fearful of going too far, wary of Gwaine’s injured state.

“Maybe we shouldn’t...I should go...” he started to say, pushing himself up until Gwaine pulled him down for another kiss.

“Don’t worry. Stay,” Gwaine said when they broke off for a breath. “This is the best medicine for me now.” He enfolded Merlin more deeply in his arms.

“All right.” Merlin sighed happily, warmth spreading in his chest and curling into Gwaine. “But maybe you should rest now.”

“Only if you stay right where you are.” Gwaine pressed a kiss to Merlin’s hair and Merlin nuzzled his head against his.

“This isn’t a dream, is it?”

Gwaine chuckled. “It’s been my dream for a long time. Didn’t you know?”

“I...Maybe. I wasn’t sure.”

“Well, now you know. And when I’m better, I’ll show you all the things I’ve thought about doing with you.”

That didn’t help to calm Merlin’s arousal. “Ohhhh.” He may have possibly leered. He definitely wriggled his hips against Gwaine’s, but it was entirely involuntary. “Um. Yeah. That sounds good.”

“Yeah,” Gwaine sighed. He tightened his hold around Merlin and Merlin wrapped his arm around Gwaine’s waist.

*

When Gaius found them that way an hour later, fast asleep, he shook his head fondly. He wondered what had taken them so long. 


End file.
